Tundorlore Two
by DreamOfTimeAndSpace
Summary: There is a strange signal coming from Earth. Two teenagers, a biologist and astrophysicist, think they have proved for definite that aliens exist, but why is the mysterious Professor Lindquist hellbent on stopping them?
1. The Signal

Chapter One 

Amy Pond swore loudly.

She tried to insert the co-ordinates again for the planet Dallendaf in the 35th century, but, same as before, as soon as she tapped in the last number, the TARDIS console emitted a dull electronic whine and the screen shifted.

"Oh, be quiet, you," she muttered to the time machine. She shook her head and blinked.

"Going crazy, talking to this old machine."

The whine got louder, as if in protest, frequently interrupted by what Amy guessed where glitches in the signal from whatever the sound came from. _Ooh, a signal. I have deducted something,_ she thought.

She pressed a large orange button on the console in exasperation, and the screen shifted again. Amy drew it closer to her and tapped the screen curiously as the image began to form.

"Pond!" came a sudden cry from across the room as the Doctor rushed down the stairs from another part of the TARDIS, swinging on the banister and collapsing in a crumpled heap on the glass floor. Hurriedly getting to his feet and gathering his wits, he frowned, seeming to have forgotten what he was going to say.

"Ah, yes," he said suddenly, "Pond… yes, _Pond_. That was it."

He grinned triumphantly at Amy, who raised one eyebrow and gestured to the screen in front of her.

"What?" he asked, his grin changing to an expression of concern.

"The TARDIS is making this weird noise. I don't think it _wants_ to go to Dallendaf."

"_No Dallendaf_?" the Doctor asked, wide-eyed with horror. He leant forwards with his ear to the console, listening intently. Grabbing the screen, he twisted it towards him and examined it.

"What is it?" Amy asked, peering round to glance at the screen, showing a darkened room she didn't recognize, a screen set into the front wall.

"Dunno," the Doctor frowned, pulling it closer to his face, "Room of some sort… probably on Earth or at least a planet colonized by humans or _similar_… some sort of theatre? Lecture hall?"

"A university?"

"Perhaps," he replied absently, letting go of the screen and starting to press random buttons, "Either way, there's a signal of some sort… distress call, most likely, or a…"

He withdrew the sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket and scanned the source of the noise, still frowning.

"… cry for attention," the Doctor muttered, "That's… _odd_."

"Why would someone do that?" Amy asked.

"Advertisement? Back-up call? Who knows?" he replied, grinning manically, "And if I could just trace it to its source…"

The Doctor pressed three small green buttons, and the screen made an odd buzzing noise before displaying a picture of a small green-blue planet Amy recognized instantly.

"Earth!" she cried, pulling the screen closer to her face.

"Hmm, yes," The Doctor said, pocketing the sonic and pressing a few more buttons, "Around… early 21st century, oh, that is definitely _strange_… think, Amy, in the whole of time and space, trillions of years, countless, _countless_ galaxies, what are the odds of your exact home planet and era?"

Before Amy could reply he was rapidly pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"Are we checking it out, then?" Amy asked, frowning.

"Oh, yeah," the Doctor said enthusiastically, "Hold tight."

He pulled a lever and the whole TARDIS shook violently.

"What about Dallendaf?" she cried as she was flung to the other end of the console room from the force of the shake, clutching the railing to prevent herself falling under the console as the TARDIS rattled into life, and the engines (or, at least, Amy imagined that there was some sort of engine) roared.

"Dallendaf can wait!" the Doctor yelled back, pulling more levers as the TARDIS flew on through the vortex, barely disguising his expression of utter glee.

* * *

**I've just realised the ridiculous amount of frowning and pushing of buttons that goes on in this chapter, so sorry about that. This is the first proper Doctor Who fanfic (aside from the odd oneshot) I've written, so it probably wont be that great, and I might not be finish it if I lose interest or something which usually happens when I try to write something more than a few chapters. **


	2. Arto Frisk

Chapter Two 

"… And that is _precisely_ why the existence of so-called extraterrestrial life forms is so _highly_ unlikely. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for your time, and I sincerely hope you may discuss this theory of mine in your later studies."

Cormac Lindquist smiled broadly at the audience, mostly university students, sitting before him at the back of the darkened lecture hall. There was a short applause, before students got to their feet, packed computers into bags and made for the exit, yawning and stretching after the two-hour lecture.

One girl in one of the middle rows didn't move a muscle. She sat, frowning, her right elbow on the armrest of the chair supporting her chin with her right hand, drumming her fingers against her jaw bone, deep in thought, as if Lindquist had been speaking a foreign language she knew vaguely and was trying to translate in her head.

She was a tall girl, around seventeen years old, long-nosed and gaunt-faced with a sallow complexion and large dull grey eyes framed by round wire-rimmed spectacles; her hair appeared almost silvery, it was so light a shade of blond, and around shoulder length with a straight fringe concealing her acne-riddled forehead. A textbook lay open in front of her and she occasionally glanced, before resuming staring into space.

"Excuse me?" came a voice from beside her, "Everybody's leaving."

She looked around to see a fair-haired boy who had been sitting next to her, staring rather pointedly at her as everyone else left the room.

"Oh," she replied, "I'm just going to, uh… ask the Professor a question…"

Her voice trailed off into silence, and she seemed to snap out of a trance, frown more determinedly, close the textbook and pick it and her bag up before getting to her feet and striding, not towards the door, but down the stairs into the depths of the room where Lindquist stood. He stopped smiling when he noticed the girl approaching him, hugging an Astrophysics textbook to her chest with an expression of steely determination.

"Professor Lindquist," she said, more as if she was noting his name than greeting him.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't perform autographs," he joked, picking up his briefcase and heading for the stairs.

"I'm not asking for an autograph, Professor," the girl said flatly. He stopped, turned around and looked at her, looking rather resigned, half irritated.

"How can I help you, Miss…"

"Marlowe," she said quickly, "Andromeda Marlow – I'm from St Gertrude's sixth form."

"Ah, _that_ Miss Marlowe – yes, your physics teacher had inform me that you would be here."

"Oh," Andromeda said, "I was going to ask you… but there are countless planets in our solar system – if you count every largish bit of rock or gas floating around – and hundreds of billions of stars in the galaxy, and an estimated _one hundred and fifty billion_ galaxies, so that's at least a quintillion stars when you think about it, and I can't even begin to think of how many planets… how can we know?"

"It is best not to worry about the size of universe," Lindquist replied, "The fact is…"

"And where have you been the last few years? Aliens are everywhere now," she continued, "Big Ben, ATMOS – everyone _says_ that was aliens – those ghosts, and do you remember that hospital everyone said went to the moon?"

"Ridiculous conspiracy theories," he replied with a dismissive wave of the hand, "Now I really need to go. Thank you for your query, Miss Marlowe, but it is, of course, nonsense. Good day."

Before Andromeda could think of anything to say, he had scuttled up the stairs and left the room, slamming the door behind him. She frowned, and sighed before heading up the stairs to the door.

Lindquist was long gone by the time she opened the door and headed out into the near-dazzling light of the corridor beyond after the darkness of the lecture hall. Andromeda was quite glad of this; there was something strange and unnerving about the man that she didn't like.

Yawning and turning the corner, she found herself, to her surprise, face to face with the light-haired boy she had spoken to minutes earlier. He grinned at her look of surprise, laughing slightly.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, "Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yes," he replied, "You."

She peered at him more closely, folding her arms. He was two inches taller than her, yet around the same age, with messy blonde hair and brown eyes, a large mouth and pointed chin and substantial nose, his features all so prominent they seemed to fight for dominance over his face. He was still grinning, his eyes following hers as she examined him.

"Who are you?" she said suddenly and loudly. Andromeda had always been relatively quiet, and kept to herself. She did not appreciate being followed by this strange boy she had never seen before.

"I have been asking myself the same question for years. It's an issue better discussed over tea. But the _real question_ is, what question did you ask him?"

"I told him his theory was wrong. It's just ridiculous, out of a _countless_ number of planets…"

"Oh, I thought that might have been it. He stormed past here a minute or two looking very angry," the boy said, "I've got a hunch something terrible might come of it, though."

"What?" Andromeda asked, "It was only a question – look, what are you talking about, anyway. I've got to get a bus, and why should I listen to you? I don't even know you."

"If I'm right, it's dangerous to talk about here. Lindquist has friends everywhere within the University."

Andromeda stared at him for a few seconds, thinking.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"Good. I don't trust many myself," he replied.

"I think you're mad."

"So do I. That isn't the issue here. I might be right, and if I'm right, your life could even be in danger. Lindquist doesn't seem to understand that… anyway."

Andromeda stared at the boy for a few seconds, frowning. She found him irritating and strange and part of her just wanted to push past him and get the bus home and forget all about him. The other part of her was curious, wanted to find out if he was telling the truth – which he couldn't be, obviously, but _still_.

"What, then?" she asked, refolding her arms.

"I said something about tea," he replied, "It's a short story, but tea is still the better than nothing."

* * *

"Seeing as I've agreed to come with you, I get to ask you whatever questions I like," Andromeda said sternly. She and the boy sat in a small, crowded café down the road from the University buildings, a mug of tea in front of both of them that the boy was happily sipping but Andromeda hadn't touched.

"I suppose that's fair," the boy grumbled, showing for the first time a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"What's your name?"

"Arto Frodo Frisk."

"_Frodo_?" Andromeda laughed.

"My parents are Lord of the Rings fanatics."

"Age?"

"Seventeen years and seven months and nine days and approximately an hour."

"So you're not at the university?"

"No; I'm from Urishay School from here, in the sixth form. I'm doing biology for A Level."

"Biology? Are you sure you weren't in the wrong lecture?" Andromeda said.

"Nah – I'm interested in so-called Extraterrestrial biology as well. If we find aliens in my lifetime – and we already have, really…"

"You're going to _dissect_ them?"

"Oh, no, no," Arto replied, "Of course not. I just want to find out more about them. Their bodies could work completely to ours."

"So you believe in aliens, then?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he grinned, "All that stuff that's happened in the last few years – it's obvious."

"Lindquist's a moron," Andromeda said flatly.

"Good to know there's someone who agrees with me, but wait a second," he seemed very confused for a second, "I'm about to tell you my terrible idea... who are you?"

"Andromeda Karoline Marlowe," she said, "Seventeen. St Gertrude's sixth form. My parents were astronomers – they're dead, I live with my cousin and her family – which got me interested in astrophysics."

"Oh, right – sorry about you parents – _Andromeda Karoline_ – beats Arto Frodo hands down."

"So why are you so obsessed with Lindquist?"

Arto sat back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully, frowning. The effect was rather comic, and Andromeda stifled a laugh as he sat up straight again and looked at her with the sort of intent look people sometimes have and it is impossible to distinguish whether they are angry, or philosophical, or worried.

"It's just so _odd_," he said after a while, "He's so obviously wrong. So why do people believe him, eh? And the way he… there's something not right about him."

"This hunch of yours… it's _real_, right?" Andromeda asked, lowering her voice.

"Of course it is. Would I go around lying to innocent strangers about my mad theories about mysterious professors – wait, don't answer that."

* * *

**I did try to finish this on Saturday, but I had got about halfway when it was The Pandorica Opens, the utter awesome and shocking-terrible-we're-all-effing-doomed!-ness of that episode had basically prevented me from doing anything in the last few days. I've only just begun to recover. **

**Anyway, I hope Arto isn't too Eleven-ish. Doctor Who just keeps invading my head all the time so I keep writing as all Eleven-y. **


	3. Chases and Police Boxes

Chapter Three

"All of time and space," Amy said, "Absolutely anywhere. And you take me _here_?"

"Oh, it's not that bad!" the Doctor replied, stepping out of the TARDIS after her.

They stood in a small courtyard, which the Doctor guessed must be behind some sort of restaurant, judging from the bins the TARDIS had materialised next to, and the smell they emitted. Old bits of rubbish skittered across the concrete ground, and slight breeze blowing posters tacked to the walls.

"Anyway," he continued, "We're just leaving the TARDIS here whilst we go and find that _thing_. I'm not sure what thing yet but there's definitely a thing!"

"All for the technical terms, you," Amy replied, "Do you even know where it is?"

"Not a clue," the Doctor grinned, "But I'd say these things will find me eventually."

* * *

"Well," Andromeda coughed, "It's been lovely – and strange – meeting you, and I really should be getting back. So, if you don't mind..."

She got to her feet, gave Arto one no-offense-but-I-think-you're-mad look, and left the café.

Andromeda was still rather shaken. She leant against the wall of the café for a few seconds and breathed deeply before walking off down the street. What on Earth did she do that for? Arto Frisk was strange and confusing and odd and she had only known him for an hour but she was sure he was completely insane, or with a ridiculously overactive imagination. She believed that alien life was completely possible, but that wasn't it. He marched into people and ranted about his mad theories... what was wrong with him? Didn't he have the sense to just leave people alone?

She pulled her jacket tighter around herself against the wind, muttering to herself.

Suddenly, a tall, dark-haired man with a distinct face she recognized instantly stepped out from an alleyway, right in front of her. Andromeda stopped. She frowned, staring at him. That face... she knew it... yet that was impossible, surely? Unless... but the hair was different...

"Run!"

Andromeda turned sharply to see Arto Frisk sprinting down the street towards her, his hair flying wildly around his face.

Without thinking, she pushed the man out of the way and ran. Oh, bloody hell, she was doing it again. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. She refused to accept that Arto could be right about anything.

Her legs ached after a minute of running, and she was already beyond out of breath – PE had never been her strong point – and turned her head quickly to see Arto a few feet from her, the man she had just encountered in hot pursuit of them.

"What – the – _hell_ – is – going – on?" she managed to yell.

"It doesn't matter!" Arto shouted, "Turn left!"

Andromeda swerved automatically to the left, and found herself in a small, rather grotty courtyard. She staggered to a halt, panting and gasping for breath and was joined a few seconds later by Arto.

"That man!" she gasped, "He had the same face as Lindquist! Exactly the same! They couldn't even be twins – he had different hair! How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Arto panted, "But he knows where we are."

As if on cue, the man entered the courtyard, smirking with triumph.

"Was it your stupid idea to hide in a dead end?" Andromeda hissed, kicking Arto in the shin.

"I thought we'd be safe!" he protested.

"Idiot!"

She scanned her surroundings as the man approached them. Posters. Neon green. For some concert or something. Bins. Those really huge bins. And some smaller ones. Thin metal, overflowing with rotting rubbish, the lids clinging on for dear life.

_The lids_.

Andromeda darted forwards, grabbed the lid of one of the bins, and, mustering all her strength, hit the man in the side of the head with it. He staggered around, dazed, for a moment, and crashed to the floor, unconscious.

There was silence for a few seconds. Andromeda was slightly surprised. She and Arto frowned at exactly the same time, without taking their eyes off the body, and were interrupted by a slight cough.

They hadn't noticed the other two people in the courtyard. Both were tall, one with messy brown hair and a substantial chin, wearing a ridiculous tweed suit. The other was a young woman with bright red hair. Or the huge, bright blue box they stood next to, with the words "Police Box" across the top and a St John's Ambulance sticker on the right door.

"Who are you?" Andromeda asked.

"I'm the Doctor, this is Amy Pond," the man replied indifferently.

"You're the Doctor?" Arto asked, incredulous, "Honoured! I'm Arto. Arto Frisk. And this is Andromeda. Marlowe. I just met her today, actually."

"I'll introduce myself, thanks," Andromeda snarled, "Who's the Doctor?"

"He's connected to virtually every report of alien life on Earth," Arto muttered, "All over the conspiracy websites."

"Oh, great! More mad people! Fantastic!"

"Oi!" the woman named Amy Pond said loudly, "That is _rude_."

"And nobody even wears bowties anymore!" Andromeda continued, ignoring Amy's words.

"It's _geek chic_!" the Doctor protested.

"All right, let's all just calm down," Arto yelled over Andromeda, "A lot of stuff needs to be explained. Doctor, you must be on Earth for a reason, right?"

"Amy found a signal coming from this city," the Doctor said, "We traced it as close as we could, but I'd say we're still a mile off."

"Yeah, it was like a lecture hall or something. The TARDIS showed us," Amy said.

"The university," Andromeda said, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping. She gathered her wits and scowled at Arto because she had little better to do.

"Lindquist," Arto said quickly, "The professor."

"What professor?" the Doctor asked.

"Recently this professor guy, Lindquist, has just appeared out of nowhere, giving lectures on his so-called proof that aliens don't exist. Everyone believes him. But they shouldn't. Because everybody knows that aliens exist. I went to a lecture today and bumped into Andromeda and she stayed behind..."

"I told him his theory was insane..." Andromeda interrupted.

"Yeah, and so I already knew something was up so I waited..." Arto continued.

"See? Who waits after a complete stranger?" Andromeda said, interrupting again.

"And I told her about my idea. Just now in the café."

"And that could've been the end of it," Andromeda said irritably, "I left! But then I nearly got my head ripped off by that... that _clone _or whatever it is..."

"Clone?" the Doctor asked, frowning at the body on the ground a few feet from them.

"He's got the same face as Lindquist," Arto said, "Exactly the same. Hair's a bit different, of course, but otherwise they could pass as twins. Except not twins; with twins you get differences that are small but not unnoticeable. These two are exactly the same."

The Doctor crouched by the body and withdrew a strange device from his pocket (that Andromeda was quite sure couldn't possibly have fitted in that pocket, but dismissed the thought) and scanned it up and down the body, the tip of the device emitting a strange buzzing and small green light.

"Oh," he said, sniffing Lindquist's clones' ear, "That's extremely very not good. Brilliant, though," he added as an afterthought, "Fantastic idea."

"What idea?" Amy asked, "Is anyone going to let me in on anything?"

"Where did you say Lindquist was?" the Doctor asked Andromeda, "the University?"

"Yes," Andromeda replied, "But don't think I'll be going there with you, I've got a bus to catch, and you people are all just too mad and..."

Her voice cracked slightly. She swallowed hard and said nothing more.

"Right," the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together, "the University, then. Come along, Pond."

"Could I go with you?" Arto asked hopefully.

"Well, hurry up then, kid," Amy yelled back as she and the Doctor disappeared behind the corner.

Andromeda found herself alone in the courtyard. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to stop herself shaking.

She opened her eyes again, and glanced at the body, and then back at the corner.

"Wait!" she cried, "Wait for me!"

* * *

**Sorry for the late-ness of this chapter. **

**Sorry for the crappy writing quality of it (it's more of a plot device sort of chapter than a look-at-how-awesomely-I-can-describe-stuff! chapter)**

**Sorry Andromeda is being so annoying in this chapter. She does improve. Eventually. **


	4. The Tundorlorians

Chapter Three

"This is _breaking and entering_," Andromeda hissed, as the four of them crept down the corridor and arrived outside Lindquist's lecture hall, back at the University. The place seemed deserted – Andromeda didn't know enough about universities to know if the day had ended or not. Did universities even work like that? There were bound to be security cameras everywhere. This was a frankly stupid idea.

"_Sonicing and entering_," the Doctor replied with a hint of smugness.

"Does '_sonic_ing' mean what I think it means?" she asked, as the Doctor withdrew from his pocket the strange buzzing device with the green light.

He waved it around in front of her face, "Sonic screwdriver."

"_Sonic screwdriver_?" Andromeda said cynically, "That's ridiculous."

"Oh, come on, it's not so weird," Arto pointed out.

"The point," the Doctor said, rather exasperated, "Is that it's very good at opening doors."

He pressed it to the keyhole and pressed a button on the device – the so-called _sonic screwdriver _– and after a few seconds, there was a click, and the door swung open. They stepped into the darkened lecture hall, immediately hit by the full blast of the stale, freezing, air-conditioned atmosphere. Amy felt along the wall for a light switch, found it, and the lights flickered on to reveal an empty room.

"That's a relief," the Doctor said loudly, as if he was trying to break the tension, "I thought I might find another Yeti."

"No," Amy agreed, "Yetis aren't good."

"What are we here for?" Andromeda asked.

"You never stop asking questions, you know," the Doctor said, "A little espionage, find out what Lindquist's really up too. Or Lindquists, if you're right about the clone. They could be brothers, but… no, the detail was far too specific…"

He brought the sonic screwdriver up to his face and tapped it, examining it as though he had never seen anything like it before. Snapping out of his trance suddenly, he looked quickly at each of them in turn and darted down the stairs to the centre of the hall, making suddenly for the desk next to the overhead projector that had been left in the lecture hall. It was made of a honey-coloured wood, with black metal legs, and scattered over it where papers, and a briefcase.

The Doctor picked up the briefcase, and scrutinized it carefully, Amy peering over his shoulder. Without warning, he threw it at her, and she quickly caught it.

"Crikey, that's heavy," she muttered, staggering slightly under the weight of the briefcase.

"Precisely," the Doctor said. He smiled, his gaze flickering between the other three.

"_Oh_…" Arto said, a broad grin breaking out across his face.

"What? Andromeda asked, folding her arms and looking as confused as ever.

"The briefcase is obviously full because it's so heavy, so what are the papers doing there," Amy said in a bored sort of drawl, already irritated by Andromeda's inability to catch on.

"But that's not even significant," Andromeda said.

"Everything is significant," the Doctor replied, "So this means…"

Andromeda thought for a moment. She grabbed the briefcase from Amy and inspected it.

"It's locked. The papers are just ordinary stuff – notes, lecture plans, etc – but the briefcase is important. So important he has to carry it around with him all the time."

"Well, at least you've deduced _something_," Arto said.

Andromeda threw the briefcase to the Doctor, who opened it with the sonic screwdriver and swept all the papers onto the floor and laying the briefcase open on the desk.

He stared at the contents for a second, and withdrew something from it. It was a paper-thin rectangular plate, green and translucent, as though it was made of slime you got at fairgrounds after it hardened. Andromeda could vaguely make out writing on one side. She peered at the briefcase, and realised that the rest of the contents was a pile of the same sort of plates.

The Doctor held the plate he had taken from the pile and twirled it in his fingers a few times, staring at it, his face blank. He then hurriedly put it back and turned to face Amy, Andromeda and Arto with a rather grave expression.

"This is extremely very not good," he said, "And I mean _bad._"

"Ooh, attack of the alien… green crisps!" Amy said mockingly, taking one of the plates, "Hey, what does this say?"

"These are all sheets of Tundorlorian paper. From Tundorlore, a planet a few solar systems in that direction," the Doctor said, "The most powerful planet in this galactic sector at one time… but their empire collapsed. Centuries ago."

"How d'you know that kind of stuff?" Andromeda asked.

"The Doctor's an alien," Amy said impatiently, "Time Lord. Travels through time and space in a little blue box. Shut up for two minutes so you can digest that."

"Now wait just one minute…" Andromeda began, but closed her mouth again upon realising that no one was actually listening to her.

"So what's on the paper?" Arto asked, taking a sheet and tracing his fingers over the markings on it.

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly the door slammed shut, and Andromeda registered the lock clicking in the back of her mind as she gave a yelp of surprise and whirled around.

Lindquist stood in the doorway. His expression was completely unreadable, and yet it seemed to show a variety of emotions all at once.

"Miss Marlowe…" Lindquist said, recognizing Andromeda from earlier that day, "Mr… Frisk, I believe… and I don't believe I have met your friends."

"I'm the Doctor, this is Amy," the Doctor said with a broad grin, "And I'm guessing this must be Professor Lindquist. Except you're _not_, are you? Oh, don't pull that face – we know, we've found the Tundorlorian paper, so you're in league with them, at least."

Lindquist smiled. For a few seconds, the Doctor searched his face for a reaction.

"Oh, dear," Lindquist began in a flat, monotonous voice, "You've found me out."

"Doctor," Amy muttered, "We could've used that as a bargaining tool."

"Ah."

"Um… Doctor…" Arto said, not taking his eyes off Lindquist.

"Why is it always me…?"

The Doctor's question died towards the end.

Lindquist's limbs were trembling and distorting themselves, as if the flesh was swimming around under his skin, which was darkening, changing…

There was a terrible sequence of squelching, creaking noises, and twenty seconds later, what had once been Lindquist was now what Andromeda could only describe as, well, alien. Like nothing she had ever seen on Earth before. It was a roughly humanoid shape eight foot tall with thin, brittle bones with emerald skin stretched over them giving it the look of a trampoline, and its head resembled that of a frog or fly with bulging eyes.

Andromeda tried to scream, which seemed like the decent thing to do, yet her throat seemed to close up whenever she attempted.

"Run!" Arto yelled, grabbing her wrist and sprinting up the stairs to the exit. She nearly tripped over her own feet before she realised what was going on and her legs began to move and within a few seconds she was running, looking back to check if Amy and the Doctor were following them.

They were through the door in a matter of moments, Amy slamming it behind them and the Doctor sonicing it frantically as they heard the muffled shrieks of Lindquist from beyond the door.

"That wont be able to hold forever," the Doctor said, putting the sonic away.

"Doctor, this is a whole university full of people – their lives'll be at risk if we just leave them," Arto said.

"I'd give it about half an hour before a Tundorlorian could break through that door," the Doctor replied.

"So what do we do?" Andromeda asked.

"We've got to stay within the university," the Doctor said, "If that thing gets out, which it will, it could do… _catastrophic_ damage…"

"We need to find a way of containing it," Arto said, "We can't kill it – we don't even know what it's planning."

"Not killing good," the Doctor said, smiling at Arto genially, "I like you. _But_, we do know what it's planning; I read it in the paper. The green stuff."

"Oh, and _now_ you tell us!" Andromeda complained loudly.

"The Tundorlorians are here to take over Earth," the Doctor continued, "_Simple as_. Lindquist actually plays a very small part in the plan – visit Earth, check out the atmospheric conditions, see if they're _just right_… and they are, so, dig out an old favourite of the Tundorlorian Army; _the element of surprise_… make the population believe there's no such thing as aliens, then barge in all guns a-blazing and take over the planet… not the tactics I'd choose to take over Earth, but then again I wouldn't."

"But what about the clones?" Amy asked.

"Amy," the Doctor said, "Can you tell one lion from another? Or one weeping angel? Or a frog – no, not a frog – or a white rabbit or a blackbird? "

Amy shook her head.

"They _are_ different, but you're just not looking hard enough. And it's the same with humans. The Tundorlorians assume that every human looks the same because they can't tell the difference between two, so they give their two agents the same appearance – I'm assuming two, it might be more."

"So you're saying," Amy said, "That we left that unconscious Tundorlorian _by the TARDIS_?"

"Ah," the Doctor said, "Excellent point. If we're lucky, that dustbin lid was stronger than we think, but that's _unlikely_. He might already be awake… in which case he'd probably already be on the way to the university, or possibly already here."

"Oh, joy unbounded," Andromeda said sarcastically, throwing her arms up in the air as though in frustration.

"_ANDROMEDA!_" Arto yelled, clenching his fists, "_THERE ARE HUGE EVIL GREEN THINGS INVADING MY PLANET! _**OUR**_ PLANET! WE COULD ALL BE DEAD BEFORE THE DAY IS OUT SO CAN YOU _**PLEASE**_ NOT SIT AROUND COMPLAINING_?"

"What on Earth am I _supposed_ to do?" Andromeda retorted loudly, unfolding her arms, "I haven't got a clue about intergalactic whatschamacallits or huge evil green things or _sonic bloody screwdrivers_ and nor do you! What are we _doing_ here? I don't even know _any_ of you! I've missed my bus! My mum's probably already phoned the police and the Queen and the FBI, knowing her!"

"Alright, _alright_," the Doctor said, making rapid downwards gestures with his hands to indicate that they were being too loud, "Look, Andromeda… humans are a bit weird with encountering aliens, but you can leave the adjusting to the idea for _later_, because we are going to need all the help we can get if we're going to stand the slightest chance against Lindquist."

Andromeda opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a loud clanging noise, and a dent appeared in the door to the lecture hall.

"Maybe not half an hour after all," the Doctor said, "We should try that door."

"What door?" Arto asked, "Oh, _that_ door… wait, what?"

"Perception filter," the Doctor called back, who was already at the door running the sonic screwdriver around the threshold, "It makes you not want to look at things. In the corner of you're eye, but you can't focus on it. Just concentrate."

"Ah… I can see it."

They heard the lock click, and the door swung open. The Doctor stepped into the dimly-lit room beyond, talking to himself loudly.

"Oh, this is Christmas," Andromeda heard him say, "This is… _beautiful_…"

Andromeda stepped inside after him, the door closing behind her. The room could not have been more different than the corridor with its light grey-green carpet and light-coloured wood and wide windows. It was dark, mostly constructed of metal with a few flickering lights set into the steel walls, a huge control panel taking up the entire left wall, everything emitting a soft, quiet hum.

"Was this _built into_ the university by the Tundorlorians?" she asked, "Is it a spaceship?"

"Yes," the Doctor said, "Teleportation device, which is how it got here, probably, but still technically a spaceship. Built _itself_ in… oh, that's clever. Brilliant, _impossibly_ brilliant…"

He took two steps further into the ship, fiddling about with the controls on the panels, grinning madly.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut and the lights dimmed, a siren beginning to wail throughout the ship.

"Amy!" the Doctor yelled, dashing towards the door and pressing the sonic screwdriver to the lock, "It's deadlocked, I can't open it!"

"Are you all right, Doctor?" they heard Amy's muffled voice from the other side of the door.

"I'm _fine_, but Lindquist's about to break through that door, Amy, Arto, you _have_ to get out."

"Humans!" came a rasping bark of a voice from the other side of the room. Andromeda whirled around, to see another Lindquist emerge from the shadows at the unlit end of the room, a gun made of the odd green material they had found in the briefcase pointed at her.

"Doctor," Andromeda muttered, tugging at the Doctor's sleeve, but he had already turned around and seen the other Lindquist.

"You will surrender your planet to the might of Tundorlore," he snarled, "Or your companions shall be the first of the human race to die at our hands."


End file.
